The White Palace
by melanthe lilac
Summary: --WIP for life-- When SG1 find themselves guests in an alien palace, they have to struggle to remain together, and remain alive, in a place where nothing and no one is as they seem. Sam/Jack for now.


**Author's Note:** This is going to be a series, but as my 'muse' is a bit on the wild side, it may take some time to actually write the damn thing... Sorry. But let me know if you like it, 'kay?

**Disclaimer:** Don't own this, never will.

**Credit** to JennMel for the Beta.

* * *

His eyes popped open. There was a light, a bright, blinding light, and _god, that fucking hurts!_ He quickly closed his eyes tight, and groaned. The sound reverberated in his skull, making his neurons sizzle, his ears so oversensitive even the sound of his own erratic breathing made his head spin.

A sudden spout of nausea introduced itself, and before he could figure out how, he was lying on his side, his stomach heaving, his body trying to rid itself of something that wasn't there in the first place. When he finally managed to get himself under control, he lifted up on shaky arms, and turned away from the stench, before collapsing again against the cold stone wall.

He had to make a conscious effort to keep breathing. His chest hurt, _really_ hurt. It was a familiar kind of pain, the kind of pain that comes with getting several sharp blows to one's ribs, thereby cracking or breaking said ribs. And by the amount of pain he was feeling, and the way his lungs were now frantically trying, and failing, to gather air, he guessed for at least three, maybe as many as five broken ribs, and he wouldn't be surprised if one lung was punctured as well.

_So. Damage control. _Ribs, broken. Definitely something amiss with his lungs. And if the stabbing pain in his kidneys were any judge, going to the bathroom might be a very painful trip indeed. Then there was his eyesight, which was blurry to say the least, and the light was still so painful to his eyes he could only have them open at short intervals at a time.

He tried to move his right arm, and _oh, I really shouldn't have done that. _Then his left, which turned out pretty good, just a bit sore. He then lifted his head, and was relieved when he found he could move his neck without any trouble. Finally, he experimentally tried to flex his legs. It was when he tried to bend his left knee that he found out was true pain was all about.

-

He blinked. _God, I'm dead, aren't I. I'm dead and I've gone to heaven. _

He let his eyes feast on the wondrous and startlingly alien beauty of the ceiling decoration, _so many colours, and that looks more like writing than just random scribbles._ Then the door opened, and he raised his head, half expecting a shiny creature with white, glowing wings to come in and wish him welcome.

Instead, it was a human girl, or human_oid_, at least, with long raven black hair, big expressive eyes, and a big, big smile on her face. _Probably not older than 10 years old, maybe less,_ he estimated, and couldn't help but smile back at her. When she walked closer, he noticed her eyes were almost emerald-green, and her pale cheeks glowed with pink spots. Her whole presence was one of joy, of happiness, and he found himself relaxing, trusting her without a second thought.

But then she started to speak, and the second that voice hit his ears, his whole posture stiffened, and his brain was immediately on alert.

"You are most welcome here, Dan-yel of the Tau'ri. Your every wish will be seen to, and let this be forever your sanctuary from the outer worlds' pain."

Her words were kind, if not cryptic, but her voice... It was smooth, silky, and he imagined it would feel as slippery as ice, as it washed over him. And it was deep, a baritone, almost, and _it just wasn't right! _

_That's not the voice of a child. That voice is evil incarnate,_ he thought, and felt a cool, almost cold touch to his forehead, just before he passed out, falling backwards on the soft, golden bed sheets beneath him.

-

Okay, this was nice. This was very nice. She wiggled her body a bit further into the soft sheets, and sighed wistfully. She knew she had to get up eventually, but right now, she was content just to lie here, enjoy the warmth of the bed, the comfort of the sheets, the very warm and muscular and soft and_ what the hell is this! _

Her eyes popped open, and she whirled around in the bed, grabbing the sheets, and almost fell off of the bed entirely, before stabilising herself and just ending up staring at the body beside her.

_Oh. Oh, my, god. _She had fantasised about this, sure. _I mean, who hasn't? He's the pure image of oozing sex, for Pete's sake!_ And now, apparently, that particular oozing was going on in her bed, by the count of a sudden uncomfortable, not entirely un-pleasant ache in sitting down.

And that was another thing, _Where the hell am I? No, she corrected herself silently, Where the hell are _we_?_

Her gaze travelled across the room, taking in the alien furniture, the nicely decorated walls and ceiling, the expensive and rather comfortable looking clothes lying on a chair in the corner. And across the room, almost at the door, was a large wooden table, filled with what looked like bread and bowls of something similar to soup, and several pitchers of both dark and light liquids.

As she was mentally preparing a list of what and how she would evaluate what they would eat, and tugging the sheets closer to her, preparing to walk over to the chair and take a closer look at the clothes, a light cough coming from behind startled her. She whirled around, and, for the second time in less than 5 minutes, almost fell flat on the floor.

She could feel his hard, assessing gaze on her, gliding up her body, sending tingling sensations down her spine. She tugged the sheets even closer around her, but knew the futility of the act as she did – there was no way they had slept in the same bed together, that close, without him getting all the sights he'd ever want.

And then his brown eyes captured hers, and for a split second, she thought he could see right through her, see everything, every single cell of her being, shattered before his assessing gaze. But then the gaze turned soft, and the lazy smile was back, and she let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding.

"So, Sam, got any idea why we're in an alien room, filled with alien things, among others an alien bed, and we can't remember anything of what took place last night? And something _obviously_ took place last night," he added, and she could swear that was a _leer_ on his face, and, "'Cause, the only remaining memory I have is of you, straddling me, pushing down on the bed, and yelling at me. I believe the words were, _'If you don't fuck me right now, Sir or no Sir, I'm going to maul your ass, O'Neill!'_. Anything to add to that, Sam? And I do think we're finally on a first-name basis, don't you?"

Samantha Carter, military Major of the United States Air force, serious geek and a general hardass, fell flat on her naked ass on the cold, marble floor.

-

He knew the moment when the guards arrived for him. He slowly pushed himself up out of his crouching position, and stood silently, waiting. He knew there was nothing he could do to fight whoever their capturers turned out to be, so he resigned himself to the knowledge that his team would avenge him.

He had promised himself that he one day would express his heartfelt gratitude for them all, and make them understand how special the warrior-bond and friendship he shared with O'Neill, MajorCarter and DanielJackson really was to him, before this day should come. But he had failed, he had waited too long, and now there would be no second chances.

Of the things he most regretted, one was not being able to say goodbye to the single one person who had meant the most to him at his stay with the Tau'ri. The second was not being able to save, or at least assist his friends in their final battle against the Goa'uld. He only hoped they would see victory, regardless of his own absence.

Then the guards came, with silent faces and hard eyes, and he walked between them unrestrained, to a large stone door entirely made out of white marble.

The guards opened the large doors, and he walked in. The only other occupant in the room, beside himself, was the small body of a humanoid girl, standing in front of a large multicoloured glass window. When she turned around, he felt curious as to why such a small child should bear witness to what he was certain would end in his death.

The child looked so innocent, so pure, her black hair shining in the light of the three evening suns, her cheeks pink on her otherwise almost pearly white skin, her emerald green eyes shining up at him. She smiled at him; a kind, almost compassionate smile.

And when she started laughing, her voice no longer carrying any trace of innocence, and no longer just a mere child's, he futilely remembered his Master Bra'tac's most important rule – evil comes in many guises.

-

Not so far away in another part of the White Palace, a woman smiled. Her raven black hair was shining in the light, her green-blue eyes dancing as she listened to her child play, enjoying her new toy.

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**A/N: **If you push the little gray button, the next chapter may get here sooner than you think... (Blackmail is a great thing, yes?)


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